


In the Cool of the Morning

by Evil_Little_Dog



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Angst, Community: fma_fic_contest, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 23:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:  Early mornings are the best.  Except when they’re not.<br/>Disclaimer:  Do I look like a Holstein to you?  Uh…don’t answer that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Cool of the Morning

Alphonse stepped out onto the porch, taking a deep breath of the chilly morning air, washed clean from last night’s rain. Mornings like these, after a rain that left everything crisp and clean; the buildings shining in the dawn’s light, with spring flowers raising their heads out to bask in the sunshine, when everyone seemed just a little bit cheerier, going about their morning business, that Alphonse missed home the most. 

He’d never say anything to Edward, because his brother had enough on his mind. The college, and his students, kept him busy, and Alphonse hoped his brother didn’t think too much on Amestris, and everything they’d left behind. It wasn’t true, of course. Alphonse knew Edward did miss home. The drawings Alphonse found, some mornings, after long nights when his brother hadn’t been able to sleep - transmutation circles, intricate and elaborate, made up of lines drawn in complete confidence, with notes ranging around them in Amestrian, Greek, Latin - explained far better than words how Edward really felt. Alphonse could read his brother’s dreams in those circles, and, if Edward’s heart was a little more brittle, it might break under the weight of those fantasies. 

The door opened behind him, and Edward thumped out, his automail tread making the wooden porch boom. “Nng.” 

“Good morning to you, too,” Alphonse told him, smiling slightly. 

Edward dropped his folded arms to the railing around the porch, using them to pillow his forehead. “Damn,” he muttered. 

The corners of Alphonse’s mouth twisted down. The crisp morning weather after last night’s temperature drop during the rain had to leave Edward in pain. Automail and old scars took their toll on his body, leaving his muscles knotted and nearly crippling him, some days. “Do you want me to make you some coffee?” His brother had taken a liking to the thick, black brew that Americans favored over tea. 

“Yeah.” Edward didn’t even bother looking up. His left hip cocked out; his right shoulder slumped, all the clues Alphonse needed to know how much his brother hurt. 

“Aspirin, too?” 

Edward grunted in agreement, and Alphonse went back inside to get his brother’s coffee. No matter how much he wanted to enjoy it, the brisk morning air seemed as curdled as spoiled milk, now. 


End file.
